


Must We All March in Two?

by Crazy_Dumpling



Category: Shinhwa
Genre: Kink Bingo 2013, M/M, Situational Humiliation, Tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 09:34:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3062843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazy_Dumpling/pseuds/Crazy_Dumpling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andy asks a difficult question of Dongwan, and Dongwan gets Andy to accept some unchanging truths.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dongwan: Acceptance

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Catatonia's Mulder and Scully. After spending most of 2014 with the most massive writer's block, I managed to finish these two ficlets on the very last two days of the year. The power of WanDy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is set during Shinhwa's 2013 15th Anniversary Concert, when Dongwan really did kneel in front of Andy.

When Andy asks him to kneel, right in front of the masses of screaming fans and their hysterical love, and in front of all the rest of his members, who are sweaty and worn out and high on the adrenaline rushing through their veins, Dongwan hesitates for the barest second. He knows that Andy is joking around for the crowd, playing up the situation and reminding the crowd just how much of an idiot his Dongwan hyung can be. But there’s that glint in his eye that tells Dongwan that Andy is being half-serious, that it’s a private challenge between the two of them, despite everything else.

Dongwan finds it hard to think of a reason why he wouldn’t accept. He’s not even sure what to call their frantic, frustratingly beautiful encounters captured in stolen moments whenever they find themselves drunk and alone at the end of a stressful recording session, or when he stumbles into Andy’s apartment in the dead of night, needing something more that he knows the others won’t be able to provide. They don’t even talk when it happens. Instead, they swap words for soft moans and gasps and desperate kisses. Dongwan knows how dangerous this all is, and he is careful never to leave any marks on Andy’s skin that would be easily noticed. For his part, Andy makes sure that Dongwan always leaves almost immediately after they have both fallen to the bed, sweaty and sated.

Just once, Dongwan asked Andy what he thought of the possibility of telling the others about their relationship. It had been a sunny Saturday afternoon in late spring, when the air was warm with the promise of summer. The sunshine picked out the light brown highlights in Andy’s hair as he curled himself around Dongwan, happy to lay with him a moment longer since there were no pressing schedules for either of them.

“Why risk it?” Andy asked, winding his fingers around Dongwan’s. “Can you imagine what they would say?”

Dongwan thought he understood what Andy meant at the time, but now, in the middle of this packed arena, with the screams of the fans in his ears, he can feel his heart pounding. What if he did get down on his knees, right here? Already he can feel his face burning from the embarrassment. To kneel in front of his dongsaeng would be to break protocol. To risk the discovery of their secret by others. To humiliate himself on this most visible of stages. What is Andy asking of him?

The problem here is that Dongwan finds himself wanting to do it anyway. To go against protocol and make people talk. It’s frightening. This is his whole life, this is all he’s ever known. Andy is daring him now, with that same steeliness he never shows onstage, but which has allowed him to build up his own successful agency. The thrill of doing this for him, embarrassing himself for his lover is intoxicating, obliterating any other reasonable voice in his head. Dongwan’s fear of disgracing himself wars futilely with his desire to make Andy proud of him.

Time seems to slow down to a slow, dreamlike trickle. Dongwan risks another glance in Andy’s direction. There’s a question in Andy’s eyes that Dongwan is not sure he understands, but he finds himself bending his knees anyway. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Choongjae wiping away Minwoo’s sweat with a piece of tissue paper and Eric gaping when he thinks the cameras aren’t watching. But he gets down on his knees to the roar of the crowd, looks up at Andy. Everyone is looking at him now. He can feel the burning shame of it all, the questions from the group. Somewhere behind him, Pilkyo is probably mouthing obscenities. But Dongwan smiles like this is all one big joke to him and gazes steadily at Andy.

_This is what I will do for you. Everything that I am — all my dignity is yours._

“Stay there,” Andy says, a small smile curving his lips. He reaches out for Dongwan’s hand and their fingers interlock immediately.

It’s the most private of messages, shared underneath the glare of the lights, and Andy’s smile warms Dongwan from the inside out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the 'situational humiliation' square on my 2013 Kink Bingo card.


	2. Andy: Submission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is set during late 2013, just before Andy's self-imposed 'period of personal reflection' after he was fined for illegal betting on football matches.

He shouldn’t be here.

Andy knows this, even as he jabs at the button in the lift, willing the doors to shut quickly. He does not want any neighbours witnessing him sneaking into Dongwan’s apartment block like some guilty thief in the middle of the night. Never mind that most residents would be fast asleep by now, or that the rabid pack of fans that follows his every move thinks that he’s rushing to an important meeting in his company car (helpfully being driven away right now by a member of his management team). Andy feels ashamed that he’s doing this; admitting to this moment of weakness is humiliating enough without people asking awkward questions.

The lift stops on Dongwan’s floor and Andy steps out even as he thinks about running to the fire escape and fleeing the building that way. His breathing, already ragged from the stress of deciding to come here (of admitting his failure), becomes even heavier. And yet he feels himself being drawn by some unseen hand towards Dongwan’s front door, his feet no longer under his control.

Because Dongwan means refuge. Andy’s had the past fifteen years to realise that, and he only worked it out on the frantic drive over here, when he nearly ran three red lights and just missed a motorcyclist at the junction in front of Dongwan’s block. 

Perhaps Andy’s always known this, and all this time it’s just been his damnable pride getting in the way. But now that he has no where else to turn for relief, now that his gambling secret has been exposed to the rest of the world and everything he has so carefully built up over the past few years is about to collapse… All his pretensions have been stripped away as well. He needs to be here, he knows it deep in his bones. 

This could change everything between them. Andy knows Dongwan thinks that he’s directed their encounters with the intention to not turn them into anything resembling romantic commitment. Andy is always careful in the dangerous, intimate atmosphere after they have spent their pleasure never to voice out any of his confusing, dangerously emotional thoughts out loud. But it is not because he does not want any entanglements with Dongwan. It is because Andy fears that he would want it too badly if they were to give in, and be honest with themselves for once.

Andy raises his hand to knock on the door and raps out a light series of beats before his courage fails. There’s a scuffling sound and a muffled yelp; Dongwan’s dog must have tried to reach the door first. Andy can hear him scolding the dog through the door, asking the dog to have more patience. Despite himself, Andy smiles. It seems a futile lesson to teach Dongwan to sit still. It seems unfair to ask that of his dog as well. 

Then Dongwan flings the door open and whatever words Andy was going to say suddenly dry up and stick in his throat. There’s the same open, earnest look on Dongwan’s face, the same warmth in his eyes and the flicker of… something else Andy can’t identify. He decides to label it concern, because it’s not everyday you get a half-drunk semi-coherent band member turning up on your doorstep at two in the morning.

Especially when you and said band member have been conducting the sort of secret affair that you are both too ashamed to speak of, particularly after the frantic ripping of clothing and desperate, glorious kisses. Andy knows Dongwan always wants to prolong the moments they have together, to make something more permanent out of their fleeting encounters and flashes of weakness. But he always tries to push away, allowing no more than a brief entangling of fingers, a soft squeeze on the shoulder, too afraid of what would happen if he yielded and allowed the emotions to dictate his behaviour.

“Sunho? Wh-what’s wrong? Are you all right? Did you get hurt? Hyung saw the announcement you made through the company… I guess the newspapers had a field day with it, didn’t they? Do you want to come in?” Dongwan tugs at his hand as he fires his questions, pulling Andy into his apartment.

This isn’t the way things are supposed to be at all. But Andy is already following him, kicking off his shoes and allowing Dongwan to lead him to his overstuffed sofa. Goguma snuffles at Andy’s toes, looking as though he’s deciding whether he approves of Andy at all. 

“Stop it, Guma-yah. This is Andy-ssi. You’ve met him before, remember?” Dongwan flicks his fingers at the dog. “Go to bed. There’s a good boy.”

It is so, so wrong for Andy to be here. He’s never had to come running to Dongwan before. In fact, it should be the other way round. That is how they’ve conducted this whole affair; Dongwan always comes to Andy’s orderly apartment. Or they agree on a neutral location, like an anonymous hotel room where Andy makes sure they are never seen meeting. It’s never been at Dongwan’s apartment. Never anywhere Dongwan would have the advantage over him. Andy needs this; this control over Dongwan, over what they do together. It seemed so important back then, to keep this part of his life separate and hidden away.

But now, with his world already threatening to collapse, Andy thinks he might be going crazy coming to Dongwan with his problems. It is one thing to admit how badly shaken he has been by the whole affair. It is another entirely to admit how much he needs Dongwan now. Not just as a brother, or a bandmate.

To his credit, Dongwan doesn’t say anything for a long time after Andy has rearranged himself on the sofa at least eight times. Instead he reaches out and rubs his thumb along the back of Andy’s hand. It’s a comforting gesture that he’s used ever since they were first introduced and Andy had complained of feeling nervous. Andy feels the usual twist of emotion in his gut that occurs whenever Dongwan does this, but now his self-control teeters on the brink, diminishing rapidly with each stroke of Dongwan’s thumb.

Without realising it, Andy takes a firmer grip on Dongwan’s hand. Then he allows himself to sag against Dongwan’s shoulder.

“You can tell me anything, Sunho-yah. You know that, don’t you?”

He _could_. Possibly this would be the healthier, more mature option. But Andy has learnt — very painfully — the value of keeping his thoughts to himself. Too many false friends have betrayed his trust in return for selling what paltry scraps of information they weaned out of him after too many bottles of soju. No, no. Better to keep everything inside his head, where it belongs.

He takes a deep breath to calm himself, but feels the air leave his lungs a lot more quickly than he expected when Dongwan plants a soft kiss on the middle of his forehead.

“Please stop acting like there’s nothing different about you and me,” Dongwan murmurs. “Tell me what’s going on. I see you walking around, carrying this weight on your own again, but you have to remember you’re not alone. The rest of the guys and I are here for you, you know that right? And… and you know that hyung is here for you. Always.”

Andy hates that he still hesitates. He should be swift, decisive. Apologise for this unexplained appearance so late at night and leave. But he cannot.

“I…” For a moment he thinks things are under control. Then the emotions well up, a strong violent surge that he is unprepared for. It bursts out of his mouth in the form of a guttural sob that sounds more animal than human. Then the tears follow. Huge, wet drops that streak down his face in large, watery trails. They drip onto the sofa, splashing into the well-worn leather.

Andy tells Dongwan everything. How stupid he feels for placing all those bets so indiscriminately. How he feels as though retribution for his actions has finally caught up with him, how badly frightened he is that his actions might mean the loss of everything that he has worked so hard to build. How the young idols under his charge might be tainted by their association with him. Even Shinhwa’s reputation, for so long unblemished, might now be called into question.

“I couldn’t live with myself if that happened, hyung.” For a moment, Andy dares to look up into Dongwan’s eyes. He sees no judgement, only the tension in the set of Dongwan’s lips and the concern in his eyes. Concern… and that elusive emotion that Andy is too scared to name. They stare at each other for a beat longer, until Andy cannot bear to see Dongwan’s worry and ducks his head. He cries and cries and cries, until the tears wet their conjoined hands, and the fabric of Dongwan’s pyjama pants is soaked through.

Andy thinks this might be his most humiliating experience of all. And yet, strangely, he feels no shame. Only a deep sense of relief. Dongwan says nothing throughout. Just holds steadily onto Andy, his thumb still rubbing slow circles against the back of Andy’s hand. 

Still they don’t speak. Goguma decides that there is nothing especially exciting about the two men in front of him and pads off to his doggy bed in the corner of the sitting room, leaving only the harsh sound of Andy gulping in air as he tries to calm his breathing.

Something fundamental has changed between them, and yet everything seems the same. Andy finally manages to calm himself down, helped by the steady presence of Dongwan at his side and the warmth of his hands. It still takes longer than he would like. He hiccups embarrassingly as the last of the tears streak down his face, closes his eyes and forces himself to stop crying. That, at least, is not too difficult. Andy feels wrung out and exhausted.

“S-Sorry, hyung,” he manages after a long pause. His voice is still shaky, and that annoys him more than it should. “I shouldn’t have come here so late. You’ve probably got a packed schedule tomorrow, don’t you? With the musical and everything. I just… I guess I wasn’t thinking when I was driving over. Sorry. You should be getting some rest, not listening to me cry like a girl just because I have to pay some stupid fine.”

He makes to stand up, but Dongwan tightens his grip and holds Andy fast.

“Is that all you’re going to say to me, after all of that?” Dongwan asks, a pleading note colouring his voice. “Do you think that’s all I’m going to accept? Just some excuse about not thinking before you drove over here, as though I’m some old friend you don’t talk to all that often. Sunho… Don’t you think I deserve more than that?”

He lets go of Andy, and Andy nearly cries out at the loss of contact before realising what an admission that would be. Then Dongwan reaches out and cups Andy’s face in his hands. Andy still can’t bring himself to look Dongwan in the eyes, so he ends up focusing on the corner of Dongwan’s mouth and studies the smile lines that have formed there over the years intently. He can feel the charged atmosphere simmering between them, strained and stretched taut. Feels each frantic beat of his heart when Dongwan leans in even closer.

“Don’t you trust me to know you, Sunho-yah?” Dongwan murmurs, his breath ghosting against Andy’s lips. “Hyung wasn’t there when you were going through all that shit twelve years ago, and I’ve never forgiven myself. So what are you trying to prove now, when we’re all here for you and you know that I would do anything to help you?”

“I don’t — ” Frustration wells up in Andy’s chest. “I don’t need you to help me with this! I’m fine on my own! Why do you care so much anyway, Wannie?! Why do you all think you need to help me? I’m fine on my own; I’ve figured everything out! I am… I mean… I…”

He trails off, unable to continue, and Dongwan snorts.

“Do you believe half of the things you are saying right now, Andy Lee? Or are you just repeating them so I’ll stop trying to help?”

Andy does not reply. But he doesn’t try to get up from the sofa again; he cannot move, because Dongwan is kissing the corners of his eyes, the top of his head. Then, Dongwan kisses his lips softly, chastely. A tame imitation of all the kisses they’ve shared before.

“You can’t get rid of me,” he says earnestly. “I know what you’re trying to do, and I’m telling you, I won’t go anywhere. None of us will. And even if you try to send the others away, I’m going to stay right here. With you. You know it, don’t you? That’s why you came tonight. You need me now.”

They look at each other. Dongwan grabs Andy’s chin before he can lower it again. Andy sees the redness in Dongwan’s eyes, tries to ignore the heat in Dongwan’s gaze, but it is useless. He stands naked and ashamed in the light of Dongwan’s truth.

“Lee Sunho. Stop running away.” Now Dongwan’s voice turns pleading. “Can’t you see it? You came here because you needed me… It’s the same reason I keep coming back to you. What we have… it’s not something you can try and arrange like some kind of schedule. Believe me, I’ve tried walking away. You think most people would stick around with someone who only wants to share a quick fuck after rehearsals, or in between recordings? If that was all you wanted, we’d never have lasted this long. You need me, because I need you. You can fight and deny it all you want, but when you’re done, I’ll still be here.”

Some stubborn spirit in Andy still wants to protest against this statement. But he recognised the truth of it as soon as Dongwan spoke it. His pride howls against the idea of needing anyone but himself, and his sense of self-preservation is terrified at the thought of being so hopelessly involved with another person. And yet…

“You’re mad, you know. When the other members find out, they’ll kill us for being so indiscreet. And the press? Once it gets out that two members of Shinhwa are screwing each other, won’t they have a field day? Can you imagine the damage that would cause? And what about the fans? What would they say if they knew what we were doing? Dongwan-hyung, I don’t think you understand what you’re saying here.”

“Andy-ssi.” For a second, Dongwan’s frustration breaks through his calm veneer until he reins his temper in and smooths it over. “I’m not asking you to declare our affair to the world. Shit. God knows I’m not ready for that either. I’m only asking you to stop pushing help away when it is offered. I want you to admit — ”

“Admit what?” Andy asks, his voice coming out higher than he means to in his panic. “What do you want from me??”

“I want you to realise that there is more to us than just fucking. And I want you to understand that you don’t have to do this on your own.” Dongwan smiles. It is a sad smile, and it sits unnaturally on his handsome face. Andy wants to rub it away with his fingers. “But I can tell you all this until I’m blue in the face. You’re old enough to know what you need to do. I suppose you’ve made all your plans to deal with your problems already, too.”

He has. “Yeah, so?”

“So, you know why you’re here. And I’ve told you the same.” Dongwan gets to his feet. “You’ve spilled enough tears here tonight, Sunho-yah. It’s up to you, but it’s late and I’m going to bed now. You can come with me, or you can go home. You choose; you can still keep up this whole charade of being strong on your own, or you can let me help you dry your tears.”

Dongwan kisses him again, long and sweet. Then he goes to his bedroom and closes the door, never once looking back at Andy. 

Andy thinks about pride. He thinks of his reputation, his commitment to himself never to rely on others for his own happiness. His vow to keep all potentially dangerous, entangling relationships at arms-length, so that his heart would never be compromised. He thinks of the bond he has with all the members of Shinhwa, of their brotherhood and shared misery and triumphs. He thinks of all the hard work he’s put in to ensure his own talent agency’s success. Thinks of the respect he has earned in the industry.

Andy also thinks about the way Dongwan clings to him each time they kiss. How their own language of touches and linked fingers has kept him sane in the midst of the constant stream of promotions and tours and rehearsals and recordings. How Dongwan pulls him so easily into his arms and the warmth of his breath against the back of Andy’s neck when they curl up, sated and weary. He recalls Dongwan’s soft smile in the mornings when they wake up, still tangled together. His fingertips tracing secrets onto Andy’s bare skin. The sweetness of Dongwan’s kisses.

Without hesitating, Andy gets up and knocks softly at the bedroom door before pushing it open, and sees Dongwan standing there, his wide smile the brightest thing in the room.

He doesn’t need to be anywhere else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the 'tears' square on my 2013 Kink Bingo card.


End file.
